by Aurora Rey
She slung her bag over her shoulder and tucked her pad and easel under her arm, then took the sandy path that led to the beach. Umbrellas dotted the sand, along with brightly colored blankets and towels. No one appeared to be swimming, but quite a few people walked along the water’s edge or waded in to their knees. Emerson set up to the left of the lifeguard stand, giving herself a view of the water as well as several of the families and couples enjoying the day.
She scanned the crowd, setting her sights on an older man who was alone. He wore a yellow Speedo and had a tan that belied the long months of winter. He lay on a towel, face up and angled toward the sun. Emerson smiled. She’d made peace ages ago that her paintings of men sold better than those of women. Even though she preferred women, she didn’t mind. And this guy was perfect.
She took some photos in case he up and left, then worked for a couple of hours, doing a light sketch before pulling out her paints. When the man left, she took a break to eat her sandwich. The beach continued to fill and she was glad she’d arrived early enough to get a good spot. When her hand began to cramp and the need to pee took on a level of urgency, she decided to call it a day. She packed up and went to her car, making a pit stop at the park restrooms.
As she climbed the stairs to her apartment, Emerson wondered what Will had been up to for the day. It likely wasn’t grocery shopping, and there wasn’t much in the house. Maybe they could go out to dinner. But when she opened the door, the air smelled of garlic. Emerson sniffed a few times. Yep, definitely garlic.
The absolute last word Emerson would use to describe her sister was domestic. So the sight of Will standing at the stove, wooden spoon in hand, took her by surprise. Clearly, something was up. “What are we celebrating?”
Will turned and flashed a grin. “I got a job.”
“That’s awesome. I want to hear all about it, but first things first. What are you making?”
“Carbonara.”
“Where did you learn that?”
“YouTube.”
Emerson laughed. Of course she learned it on YouTube. Will would try just about anything. Seeing a video online might as well be a full course on a subject. “It smells fantastic. Can you talk and cook at the same time?”
Will glared, but in a playful, sisterly way. “Yeah, although walking and chewing gum still trips me up sometimes.”
Emerson gave her an exasperated look. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Make it up to me by opening the wine I picked up. It’s in the fridge.”
“Fancy.”
“We’re celebrating. Besides, you can’t drink beer with carbonara.”
“Right.” Emerson pulled out the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, opened it, and poured two glasses. She handed one to Will, then lifted hers in a toast. “To new starts.”
“And sisters who are generous with their sofas.”
After clinking glasses, Emerson perched herself on one of the stools at the tiny breakfast bar. “Tell me everything.”
“It’s on a whale watching boat.”
Emerson, who’d taken a sip of wine, choked. When she caught her breath, she looked at Will. “I’m sorry?”
“My job. It’s on a whale watching boat.”
“I heard you. I’m just not sure I understand. You don’t know anything about boats.”
“Well, I’m not going to be driving it. Or steering it. Or whatever it is you do to a boat.”
“Yeah, but—”
“It’s like customer service. I take tickets and chat up the passengers, run the little canteen. Plus, I used to be a lifeguard. I hopefully won’t need to use those skills, but it helped that I have them.”
The way Will described it made it seem less absurd. And it’s not like whale watch boats were fishing vessels. She wouldn’t be hauling nets or chumming the water or anything like that. “What made you decide that’s what you wanted to do?”
Will plated up the pasta, going so far as to sprinkle chopped parsley over the top. She set the plates on the bar and sat on the stool next to Emerson. “I wanted something different.”
Different. That was a massive understatement. “Have you ever even been on a whale watching boat?”
Will furrowed her brow. “Before today you mean?”
“Yes, before today.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve been on other boats, though. I can’t imagine it’s all that different.”
Emerson still couldn’t figure out why Will would choose something completely new over something like bartending or working retail, which she both knew and could make good money at, especially in a place like Provincetown. Then again, Emerson had never been thrilled when Will did work in bars. Not in a judgmental way or anything, but the hours were shit. On top of that, Will got hit on. A lot. Even without Kai around to be obnoxious and stir up trouble, Will struggled to be friendly but firm when it came to unwanted attention.
Maybe this new gig wasn’t all that different from retail. Only on a boat. Either way, it was yet another example of how Will would try just about anything. Since they were kids, it was a trait Emerson both admired and envied. “That’s one way of looking at it. I’m proud of you.”
“And I can get discount tickets. You should come out sometime.”
Emerson immediately thought about Darcy and Liam. She wondered if Liam had ever been on a whale watch before. “I am definitely going to take you up on that.”
They finished eating and Will insisted on doing the dishes, even though the rule of their childhood had been that whoever did the cooking was exempt from cleaning up. It probably had to do with Will feeling guilty about crashing at her place. While unnecessary, it was a nice gesture. It was also nice to see the lightness in Will’s demeanor. She’d been so down when she arrived. And while things had been slowly improving, today was the first time she seemed like her usual, indomitable self.
Will curled up on the futon with her computer to learn as much as she could about the whales of New England and Emerson wandered over to her studio space. She needed to finish the piece she started earlier, but it would keep. She flipped through some of her recent photographs, stopping at one she took of a mother and toddler on the beach, building a sandcastle. Kids weren’t Emerson’s usual style, but she liked this one. Maybe she just had kids on the brain.
She sent it to her printer and set up a canvas. Charcoal in hand, she did a rough sketch of the figures, blocking in little more than the shapes and positions of their bodies. As much as Emerson appreciated the cash flow of commissioned pieces, she preferred using real people as no more than basic inspiration.
“I’m still amazed that you can do that.”
Emerson dropped her charcoal and nearly fell off her stool. She had not only lost track of time, she’d lost track of the fact that her sister was in the room. She hopped down to retrieve the errant charcoal. “Doing it for a living has definitely honed my skills.”
Will shook her head. “Maybe you’ve sharpened your technical skills some, but you always had the eye, the feel. If anything, you’ve gotten faster.”
Emerson smiled. “That is definitely true.”
“As impressive as it was that you got into medical school, I’m glad you’re doing this instead.”
Emerson felt the same way, even though it was still hard at times to reconcile the joy of that decision with what triggered it. “Thanks.”
“Mom and Dad would be proud, you know.”
When Will and Emerson were younger, that fact—their parents’ pride as well as Emerson’s driving need for their approval—created no small amount of friction between them. It had also been the reason Emerson applied to medical school. While they never dismissed Emerson’s talent or passion for art, it clearly couldn’t hold a candle to the financial security and prestige of becoming a doctor. “I’m not sure that’s true, but I’m okay with it.”
Will put a hand on Emerson’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, too.”
Emerson wrapped an arm around her sister and sq
ueezed. “Now that’s saying something.”
“I mean it. I was always proud of you. I just couldn’t tell you when you were younger. You would have been insufferable.”
Emerson chuckled. “I don’t know. It might have made me slightly less jealous of you.”
Will leaned back and punched her in the arm. “Stop.”
“No, really. Well, maybe more envious than jealous, but still. You managed to be smart, athletic, and popular. The high school trifecta.”
“It’s funny how that works.” Will shook her head. “We can’t help but think the grass is greener on the other side.”
“Truth. You’re not going to be in a hurry to move out, are you? You know you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”
Will smiled. “I’m not moving out tomorrow, I promise. I do want my own place, though. An extended slumber party probably isn’t the best thing for our relationship.”
“That’s fair. I’m kind of liking it for now, though.”
“Thanks for saying that. I’m going to hit the hay. My first shift starts tomorrow at eight.”
“Ugh. What an ungodly hour.”
Will shook her head. “It’s later than I used to have to be at the store. You know, now that you’re an adult, you might want to try keeping normal hours.”
Emerson lifted her charcoal in defiance. “Never.”
Will went to get ready for bed and Emerson continued her sketch. She worked for a while longer, happy that she’d be ready to start painting the next day. By the time she flipped off the light, Will had been snoring for a good half hour. The sound remained nostalgic, but Will was right. She’d likely not feel that way in a couple of months. Even still, it was worth having Will in town. And as far away from Kai as humanly possible.
Chapter Fifteen
Emerson woke to the sounds of Will getting ready for work. She propped herself up on her elbow to wish Will good luck on her first day. Will thanked her, then said, “Dinner tonight?”
Emerson shook her head. “Liam’s science project is being displayed at the public library in Wellfleet. I’m going to the little reception they’re having for all the kids who got chosen.”
“Right. So cute. I’ll see you later then. Have a good one.”
“You, too.” Emerson offered a wave, then flopped back in bed and pulled the covers over her head.
She woke for the second time a couple of hours later. She decided to clean and make a run to the laundromat before settling in to work. Chores complete, she ate the leftover pasta right out of the container, washing it down with a glass of seltzer. She did up the few dishes, then turned her attention to the canvas she’d sketched the night before.
Emerson clipped her inspiration photo to the top of her easel, then squeezed several blobs of paint onto her palette. She picked up a brush, but set it down. Mood music. She scrolled through her playlists and Pandora stations, settling on Yacht Rock. Will might tease her about her old-school tastes, but as far as she was concerned, the seventies were timeless. For music, at least.
As usual, she lost track of time. She stopped once to go to the bathroom and once to make coffee. She decided to make the toddler a little girl, and gave her a tiny red bucket and shovel. One of her favorite things about the photo was the late morning light, so she continued glancing back at it as she added the various shades and shadows, the reflection of the light across the water. The painting was coming together quickly and she didn’t want to stop while she had such a good flow.
She gulped her now-cold coffee, added more paint to begin layering in the details. At one point, she realized her music had cut out. She reloaded the app, switching over to classical, since singing along wasn’t always the best thing for her concentration.
The sound of the door opening broke Emerson’s concentration. She spun around, raising her brush in the air like she might a wield a weapon against an intruder. Will stood on the other side, several grocery bags in hand. “Hey. Need a hand with those?”
“I’m good.” Will walked the rest of the way in. “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere?”
Emerson looked at the clock, then spent a second processing what day it was. Liam’s show. “Shit.”
“How late are you?”
She cringed. “An hour.”
“Better get moving then.”
“Yeah.” Emerson grabbed her phone. She’d missed several texts from Darcy. She dashed off a reply and tried not to think about how mad Darcy would be. She ran around the apartment, changing her shirt, then grabbing her keys. “How was your first day?”
“Fine. Good. I’ll tell you all about it later. Go do your thing.”
“Right. I’m going.” Emerson wrapped her brushes in plastic. She’d deal with cleanup later. She passed Will, still standing in the middle of the room holding her bags. “I’ll see you later.”
“Bye.”
Emerson jogged to her car and hit the road. Everything was fine until she hit Truro. Something slowed traffic to a crawl. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, trying not to lose her patience. Getting all worked up wouldn’t get her there any faster.
*****
Darcy glanced at her watch for the tenth time in the last five minutes. She watched Liam look toward the door yet again and it took all the restraint she could muster to keep her temper in check. “Do you want to go get some punch? Or a cookie?”
Liam shook his head. “I don’t want to miss Emerson when she gets here.”
“You won’t. I promise.”
He looked at her before sulking off, clearly not interested. She pulled out her phone and sent Emerson another text. Was she running late or not coming at all? She didn’t want to be a nag, but she really wanted to know how much of a disappointment Liam would be in for.
A couple of minutes later, Liam returned, accompanied by his friend Carlos and Carlos’s mom, Maria. They exchanged greetings and Darcy asked Carlos if his project was at the library as well. He nodded. “I did piping plovers.”
“Nice. We’ll have to come over and check out your display.”
Carlos grinned. “I made eggs out of clay and then built a nest for them.”
Darcy had seen signs about the birds and roped off areas at the beach, but didn’t know much beyond that. “Cool. Hey, Liam, why don’t we take a walk around and look at all the other projects?”
He glanced at the door as a new batch of people came in. None of them were Emerson. “Okay.”
They meandered around. Darcy recognized several of Liam’s friends from school and their parents. In an effort to keep Liam distracted, she asked him to introduce her to people and to explain some of the projects. There were dioramas and collages, a couple of sculptures, and Carlos’s nest. The nest, it turned out, was nothing more than a hollow in the rocky sand, which explained why they needed protection.
She enjoyed the creativity and the sophistication of the different displays, wondering how much help some of the parents had given. Either way, she was certain she wouldn’t have done anything nearly as impressive at that age, even with her parents’ help. And while some of the projects were more innovative than Liam’s, none had the level of artistic ability, at least not in her opinion. It was a shame that her pride was marred by her annoyance at the person who helped him create it.
They made their way back to Liam’s painting and Darcy looked at her phone once more. Finally, Emerson had replied, declaring she was on her way. The relief was short-lived, however. The text had come only a minute before and, assuming she sent it as she was leaving P-town, she wouldn’t make it before the library closed. She debated for a moment whether to tell Liam. Ultimately, even if Emerson missed the show, at least she was coming. “Emerson just texted. She’s on her way.”
“Yeah!” Liam pumped his fist, a mixture of joy and relief on his face.
Darcy hated being the wet blanket, but she didn’t want Liam to get his hopes up too much. “She’s on her way, but still a ways away.”
“She’ll m
ake it.” Liam’s tone was insistent.
Minutes ticked by and the crowd started to thin. Liam, his spirits renewed, milled around and talked to his friends. His teacher came around to say that the library would be closing in a few minutes. Darcy nodded and thanked her, contemplating a plea for a few additional minutes. By the time Liam returned, only a couple of people remained. His joy had given way again to worry. “Are they going to kick us out, Mom?”
“Let me go ask.” Darcy tracked down the librarian, who was at the circulation desk shutting down computers. Darcy explained the situation and asked for a few more minutes. The woman, while sympathetic, refused. Her husband was away and her own children were home waiting for a late dinner. Darcy delivered the news and Liam nodded his understanding. She hadn’t seen him so deflated in a long time.
They gathered their things and headed for the exit, officially the last to leave. The doors locked behind them. They stood for a moment, Darcy wondering if she should send Emerson a message telling her not to bother. She’d just started to type as Emerson’s car turned into the lot.
Emerson pulled into a spot and jumped out. “Did I miss it?”
“Yeah.” Liam’s voice radiated disappointment. Darcy sighed.
“Dude, I’m so sorry. I was working on something and I completely lost track of time. I can’t believe I missed it.”
Darcy didn’t say anything. Emerson certainly looked disheveled. Her hair was messy—even for her—and she wore a dress shirt over paint-splattered jeans. Liam offered a weak shrug. “It’s okay.”
“I bet it looked great. Were there a lot of people there?”
Another shrug. “I guess.”
Under normal circumstances, Darcy wouldn’t tolerate such dismissive behavior. But these weren’t normal circumstances. Considering she had half a mind to yell or knock Emerson upside the head, she figured dismissive was acceptable. That said, she might prefer it if Liam got angry. Anger wouldn’t tear at her heart the way his disappointment did.
